The Fine Line between Love and Hate
by Elmo.E.Kazi
Summary: Hermione is sick. She won't admit it but when her sickness causes her to be evicted from her apartment, she has to rely on the one person she swore she would always hate. But, what if she realized that she stopped hating hima long time ago? Sucky summary.
1. Chapter 1

**A Fine Line between Love and Hate**

.Elmo.

•**Chapter One•**

**Hey There, Again, Mr. Ferret**

Hermione sat alone by the window in her apartment. Rain dripped delicately across the smooth glass as she drifted into a spaced out daze. Her hand, which rested ever so slightly on the cool glass, slid down slowly and then came to rest on her other, which was lying limply in her lap. Her curtain of curly/bushy brown hair lay limply over her shoulders and her chocolate eyes were devoid of all life. Her skin, which had once been a rich, healthy tanned peach, was sallow and blotchy and dark circles had formed beneath her eyes. She had become nothing but a fragile stick of a girl beneath her skin. She looked morbid sitting by the window on a rainy day, her black robes draped over her small, frail shoulders.

The war, which had ended not but a few weeks before, had left Hermione docile and melancholic. She liked to think, sometimes, that not everything had been a complete waste. After all, the Dark Lord had been destroyed and peace was returning to the Muggle and Wizarding world. It was a time of great reconstruction but Hermione found that she didn't much care or want to be a part of it. She supposed that was how a person felt when they had nothing left to lose. Harry was dead. Ron was dead. Both her parents were dead. Dumbledore was dead. There was no reason for her to care anymore.

She closed her eyes tightly, letting the tears leak out from underneath her eyelids. The small droplets of water trickled down onto the floor and she clenched her fists. Two vases shattered and a windowpane cracked down the center. She pushed out of her seat roughly and heard the kitchen chair she had been sitting in clatter to the floor. She pulled off her robes, slid her coat onto her shoulders and left the apartment, stepping out into the pouring rain.

_Meanwhile…_

'_Oh bloody hell!'_ thought Draco Malfoy, as he felt the cage shifting suddenly. '_How did I ever manage to get into the mess?'_ One of his pure white paws reached up and he scratched himself behind the ears.

He let out a startled squeak as the shop owner slammed the cage down in the pet shop window. Draco turned and saw that rain was splashing violently upon the sidewalk as a few habitants of the quiet Bristol lane walked beneath umbrellas. He curled up in a corner and shot a cat, who was eyeing him rather hungrily, a confrontation look before settling into a lazy daze. His head perked up ever so slightly when he heard the bell to the shop door ring, signaling a customer. He turned to see a rather thin brunette character entering the shop. Their face was hidden beneath the hood of their raincoat.

"It's a nasty one out their, isn't it, Miss?" inquired the shopkeeper. The girl shook out her umbrella halfheartedly. And pushed the her hood away from her head to allow the rest of her chestnut curls to cascade down her shoulders and back.

"I suppose," she murmured, her voice monotonous and lifeless. Draco's ears twitched slightly and his eyes sharpened with interest.

"What can I do for you?" persisted the shop owner. "Just looking again, Miss…erm…?"

"Granger," she replied. "Hermione Granger." Draco jumped up from his corner of the cage and turned so that he was in the opposite corner. "And, actually, I was just wondering how you came into possession of that rather arrogant looking albino ferret over there."

"Oh, him? He was shipped in from London. A cousin of mine had him in the shop for a few months but every time he sold him, the buyer brought him back complaining of biting and such. He gave him to me and said that maybe I'd have better luck," the shop owner explained. "Thinking about purchasing him?"

"Actually, I think I'll take him with me right now," Hermione replied, pulling out her wallet. She paid him, waited at the shopkeeper put a plastic case over Draco's cage and exited the shop out into the rain once more, after thanking the shopkeeper.

Draco heard the rain splashing against the plastic cover of his cage as Hermione walked on. He couldn't suppress the feeling of foreboding that was washing over him. Something about what was happening was a little bit more than innocent coincidence. He kept telling himself, however, that Hermione had just genuinely been interested in a furry companion and he simply caught her eye by chance.

'_It's just a coincidence,'_ he thought to himself as he let out a squeak of protest when the cage was jarred slightly. '_Nothing unusual about it…'_

He heard the jangle of keys and a door creaking open slowly. He looked around in distress as the sound of rain pelting the cover of his cage ceased almost immediately. The door clicked shut and he felt his cage being set down on a counter or a table of some kind. The cover was pulled off and he met a pair of curious, yet dull, brown eyes. He returned her stare with his pink eyes and shuffled back to the bars opposite her. Her brow furrowed and she reached into the robes dangling over the back of the chair. She pulled her wand out and held it out cautiously.

"No use playing stupid," she said in her robotic voice. "I know it's you, Malfoy. I'm surprised that you're still a ferret. I suppose I did cast the spell a little overzealously." She smirked slightly and then cleared her voice. "Now, I'm going to open the cage's door and allow you to crawl out. Either you do it, or I'll make you. Once you're out, don't try to run for it. You know very well that I'm smarter than that."

She waved her wand slightly. The cage door fell open and Draco crawled out cautiously. She narrowed her eyes at him and watched as he curled up warily near a corner of the table. His eyes followed her wand as she raised it above her head.

"Okay," Hermione ventured. "I'm going to lock and ward the doors and windows. Then, I will change you back. If you try to kill me, don't think there aren't ways of me protecting myself from anything you throw at me." She waved her wand around her and then pointed it at Draco, taking a deep breath.

"Finite incantatum," she breathed and watched as the white ferret jumped from the counter and landed on the floor just as its body began to morph.

The fur began to disappear and the arms and legs began to stretch. The body regained its mass as the tail faded and the ears shrunk and returned to the sides of the head that was becoming more human like by the second. Within a few long seconds, a pale, blonde, wholly naked Draco Malfoy sat crouched on the floor.

"What, you couldn't transform me back into my clothes, Granger?" he snapped, covering his privates as he stood up. He turned to see she was clutching onto the counter for dear life and panting heavily. He smirked and pounced forward, reaching for her wand.

She turned on her heel, pointed her wand fiercely at him and yelled "_Stupefy!_" Draco stopped mid-step and his eyes became slightly perturbed. He watched as Hermione tumbled onto the floor, clinging to a nearby chair for support.

She looked up from her spot and felt her knees buckling beneath her and she hit the floor. Her magic had been weak for sometime ever since the nightmares had begun. At night, her dreams were filled with gruesome images from the war. Her tossing and turning caused magic bursts to radiate from her body. Books flew from bookshelves. Lights and appliances blinked on and off. Glass objects shattered. Her house was always a mess in the mornings and she was drained and couldn't clean it up with magic.

She turned to Draco and, with as much strength as she could muster, pushed herself up into the chair. She cleared her throat and forced her face into a sweet, understanding smile.

"Look, Malfoy," she began in a strained voice. "There's no need to panic…I know everything. I know what side you're on and what really happened in the Department of Mysteries the last year of the war. I wasn't sure when I first saw you after it was over. Before I could change you back into a human, you had gone. I don't understand, though. Why? Why did you choose to help us when Voldemort was at such an advantage?" Draco made to tell her just what he wanted, but his mouth was frozen, as was most of his body. "I'm going to unfreeze you…but I don't want you to run, because all I want is to understand. I also think you should know that the Ministry has cleared you of all charges. I saw to that myself. Harry would have wanted it that way…" Her voice cracked and she wiped away her tears. When she raised her hand to reverse her spell, she flashed a set of small, pink scars that were on her wrist.

With a flick of her wand, he fell to the floor. He looked up in confusion as she shakily got to her feet and headed off to her room. He watched as she re-emerged with a rather large black robe. She gave an outstretched hand to help him up, while looking away. He stared at her suspiciously before taking the proffered hand. She pulled as hard as he could, but when he got to his feet, she stumbled backward and would have fallen if Draco hadn't swung her around and curled his free hand around her waist.

"Er—thank you…" breathed Hermione, managing to gain her balance. She cleared her throat and gestured to the small den on the opposite side of the apartment. "Please, have a seat."

Draco obeyed and took a seat on the edge of a dark green sofa. She hugged the robe around his barren body and took in the undersized living room. Hermione practically fell into the large, crimson armchair opposite Draco. She took in a deep breath and looked up, forcing the sweet smile once more.

"So," said Hermione, her voice a little stronger than before. "What happened? If it wasn't for you, the Dark Lord would be ruling, you would be one of the ruling powers, and Harry, Ron, and I would be at your mercy. Isn't that what you wanted?"

Draco inhaled deeply, ran a pale hand through his equally pale hair, and then turned his resolute silver eyes on the brunette across the room from him. "Power isn't everything, Granger," he began. "I once said that I would do anything to have power, anything to follow in my father's footsteps. Well, I realized that _anything _is a lot to give up." He paused and folded his hands in front of himself. "I'm not sure if you know, Granger, but I have always loved my mother, no matter how badly I treated her or how unfeeling I may have ever seemed. When the Dark Lord had my own father kill her, in cold blood, as a sign of loyalty, I suppose you could say that was my breaking point.

"I was, am, and always will be a skilled Occlumens, as I'm sure you know—"

"I see your ego hasn't deflated much, even after all of the little girls you must have entertained as a pet," Hermione interjected.

"—and so I managed to play it off as if her death hadn't phased me. The Dark Lord had conveniently fallen for my ploy and had dismissed the revel. I had retreated home, as I had taken up residency away from my father for the sole reason that the Dark Lord thought that it would be harder for him to lose supporters if we all lived separate to prevent large scores of us from being captured in raids.

"I returned to my home and began to devise a plan. I wasn't sure how I was going to get revenge. I thought about murdering my father several times and put it on as if he had attacked me and I was merely defending myself, but I thought that it hadn't just been my father. It had, after all, been the Dark Lord who had given the order. He had to be punished as well. Then it hit me. The only way to get rid of the Dark Lord is through Potter. The only problem was…well…the obvious. I had made Potter an enemy through the years." Hermione scoffed. "I was determined to make Potter an _ally_ and that meant being civil to him. So, I bit the bullet and did what helps me clear my mind. I made a list of all the things about potter that I considered decent.

"Soon, I had managed to accept that Potter was someone I could consider a friend, given time. Next, I had to gain Potter's, Weasley's, and your trust. Not so that I could betray it, like I later told the Dark Lord. I laid several clues about useful hints for the order. I searched for the Horcruxes and led Potter to several of the last. When the time came and Potter became curious of whom it was that was leaving such obvious clues, I decided it was the time for me to reveal myself. Trust me, Granger; Potter's reaction was no better than yours was. I'm sure he contemplated killing me.

"After quite a bit convincing and explaining, Potter seemed to believe me somewhat. He did put me under surveillance, however. I couldn't go anywhere without the little Weaselette coming along. Quite irritating I admit but I did grow somewhat fond of the little pest. I almost miss having her around. Whatever happened to her?"

"She's back at the burrow," Hermione replied. "With her mum and what's left of her family. The size of the Weasley household had decreased immensely." She bowed her head slightly. "You had better thank her when you see her. If it hadn't been for her, you might still be a ferret and I could have passed you by without a second glance." There was a slightly awkward silence. Hermione finally cleared her throat and, having regained most of her strength, got to her feet. "Well, I'm glad that you cleared that up. I'll fetch you some clothes and some money, and then you can leave. My door is open, though, if you need a place to stay. Harry and Ron would have wanted me to welcome you with open arms, as odd as it would seem."

Draco watched her as she moved over to a coat closet near the front door and opened the door.

"Granger," he ventured, seeing another glimpse of the white scars on her wrists. "What really happened…after Potter and Weasley…erm…passed on?" Hermione's hand, which had been reaching for a large button-up shirt in the closet, halted. It dropped to her side and she looked toward him.

"As you can imagine, many of the Death Eaters, including Lucius, were sentenced to life Azkaban for high treason and murder in the first degree. Their wands were snapped. The Wizarding world underwent a month-long mourning period for Harry and Ron and all those who died in the war. People began rebuilding the Wizarding world and Muggle community and…then everything went back to the way it was. That's it." Her voice was wavering slightly. "Here." She held out a white button-up shirt and black slacks to him.

"These are good in a pinch," he said, rather sarcastically. "Why do you have these?"

"I have a Requirement Closet," she told him and he cocked a brow. "If I need something, clothing related, I just open the door and it's usually waiting for me."

"Well, what about underpants?" he questioned. Hermione smirked and closed the closet.

"Get them yourself," she said. "Your legs and arms aren't broken. Then get dressed and I'll gladly provide you with a few galleons to get you by in Malfoy Manor. I'm sure that's where you'd like to be headed?"

A few minutes passed and Draco emerged from the bathroom, fully clothed and pulling the robes onto his arms. Hermione had a small sack in her hand, it was open and she seemed to be counting the gold pieces inside of it. After a few moments, she nodded, closed the bag and held it out to him. He took it, admiring just how heavy it felt in his hand. He then looked up just as she was crossing the threshold over to the fireplace. She picked up a flowerpot from the mantle and tossed a pinch of the powder from within it into the fireplace. The flames init shot up ferociously and turned emerald green.

"Malfoy Manor has been on the floo network for a while now and you should be able to get in without trouble. Once you're there, feel free to re-erect the wards," Hermione explained, plopping down into the armchair. "It was a pleasure seeing you again, Malfoy. I hope we can be on good terms in the future." He looked at her as her voice became slightly weaker. "Perhaps, sometime in the near future, you might visit Harry and Ron's grave. Oddly enough, Harry left you something in his will. It should be waiting for you at the manor." She looked up at him with her dull brown eyes and managed a genuinely relief smile. "Farewell."

Draco looked down at the green flames for a moment before turning back to Hermione. He cleared his throat and she looked up. "Granger," he began, taking a deep breath. "What you said about me being welcome at your house a while ago…the same to you. If you ever find yourself on the run, I will gladly take you up." He smirked.

Hermione nodded, also smirking, and watched as Draco stepped into the fireplace and cleared his throat. "_Malfoy Manor,_" he called and was swallowed up in the green flames. They licked his body and he closed his eyes in rapture at the very welcome feeling of having his own body once again. He was not prepared to take in the dark and dusty lobby of the Malfoy Manor.

**Reviews are our friends.**


	2. Chapter 2

•**Chapter Two•**

**Nice To See You, Miss Bookworm**

"Evicted?" blurted Hermione, jumping out of the landlord's cushy couch and nearly knocking the teakettle, as well as all of the tea service, from its spot on the neat lounge table. It had been approximately one week since her encounter with Draco Malfoy. She had been out shopping and tying up a few odds and ends and when she returned home, the landlord had been waiting for her outside his apartment door. "What…what do you mean?"

"I'm terribly sorry, Miss Granger," managed Mr. Parkas, fumbling with his tie nervously. "I don't…I don't have sufficient fund to continue running these apartments any longer. You aren't the problem at all. You have always had your rent on time and some times I wonder if maybe you deserve a better place than the likes of this dump." He motioned around and Hermione opened her mouth to respond but Mr. Parkas held up a hand to stop her. "I think I will enjoy living unemployed much more than running this place. My wife and I have put aside a nice little nest egg for my retirement, and now that he children have moved out…"

The rest of conversation was mere babbling about family to Hermione and when it came to leave, she gathered all her bags and things up and headed up the stairs. The landlord had said she had 30 days to be moved out, but Hermione didn't think it would take her quite that long. When she reached her own apartment, she opened the door, set her things on the kitchen counter and plopped down into a chair beside the window. She sighed and bowed her head in frustration. What was she going to do? Where was she going to go?

It was true that the war had left her a large sum of money. She found, however, once the final battle had ended, that she did not want it. She donated a majority of it to the rebuilding of the Ministry and other important Wizard and Muggle artifacts, as well as helping Molly and Arthur set up what they affectionately called the Harry Potter House, which was a foundation and safe house for either those of the Wizarding kind who found themselves in abusive Muggle households or Muggleborns who had been disowned by their families upon being discovered to possess magic abilities. If a wizard or witch found his or herself in one of those situations, they were given money to help them live on their own or were invited to live in the safe house until they finished their schooling.

Hermione had only set a little bit of her money aside for herself. Just enough to help her live out the rest of her days, secluded away from the Wizarding world. She did not want to move or have to adjust once more to the confines of the Muggle world and did not know what to do, considering this new complication with her living quarters. She looked out the window and let out another sigh before her mind roused up a familiar quote.

'_If you ever find yourself on the run, I'll gladly take you up.'_

Hermione looked up as she actually considered Taking Malfoy up on his offer. She wondered, for a moment, if he had been serious or just courteous. She adjusted thoughtfully in her seat and looked curiously at her fireplace. It wouldn't hurt to ask. She got up from her seat and headed for the mantle, picking up her bag of floo powder and siphoning it delicately in her thin, pale fingers until she was sure she had enough. She was not keen on the experience she had every time she used floo powder to send messages. It was similar to continuously riding a carousel on overdrive. She shook her head and then tossed a pinch of floo powder in the grate, her eyes following the flames as they burst from the ashes, a brilliant acid green. She gritted her teeth, stuck only her head in the flames and called, "Malfoy Manor", though it was rather muffled.

When her head finally halted she had regain herself for a moment, the experience being thrice as unpleasant because of her weakened state. She shook her head slightly and then took in the white marble of the Malfoy Manor parlor. She had to admit it was gorgeous. It wasn't as sinister as she always thought it was and was dazzled by it's shining beauty. She pulled her mind out of its startled daze to look about the room for any sign of Malfoy. When, after a few attempts to call his name, there was no response, she withdrew her head, took a bracing breath and then stepped fully into the fireplace and came out, soot-covered and stumbling dizzily, in the parlor.

She made to catch herself from falling by the grabbing the back of a large armchair. She missed it, by a long distance and stumbled forward, tumbling to her knees on the hard marble. She hissed in pain as she felt the stinging pain in her frail knees jarring all of her legs. She crouched over and waited for the pain to subside for a long while. When, finally, she began to feel her knees once more, she pulled herself up and took in the whole beauty of the room, from the snow white of the floor and walls to the tasteful black of the seating apparatus. The clear glass table and onyx chessboard added a more elegant look to the already sophisticated élan that the room so modestly possessed.

She felt almost saddened to leave the room as she headed for the door leading to the lobby. She pushed it open and was greeted by a flutter of bright red feathers and the harmonious singing of what Hermione knew to be a phoenix. She looked at the magnificent creature directly opposite her. She walked toward it and it raised it head to meet her. It ceased its singing and cocked its head to the side, giving her an innocent stare.

"Fawkes?" she asked, lifting her hand and gently stroking the soft feathers on the bird's back.

"No," came a voice from the doorway. Hermione looked up to see Draco Malfoy staring at her with immense interest. "No, this is not Dumbledore's bird. He rests with Dumbledore now."

"He rests…with Dumbledore? Surely you don't mean that Fawkes is dead?" questioned Hermione, still stroking the bird before her.

"I do mean just that," Malfoy responded. "The only way a phoenix can die…"

"…is of a broken heart." Hermione could feel the tears well up in her eyes. She wiped them away and turned back to the lovely bird before her. "If this is not Fawkes, then who is this darling bird?"

"Her name is November," he replied, smirking. "I'm sure you know of the relevance of the name Fawkes and the month November? It is, after all, a Muggle holiday, is it not?"

"Remember, remember, the Fifth of November, the gun powder treason and plot. I know of no reason why the gunpowder treason should ever be forgot," Hermione recited, watching as Malfoy's eyebrows rose. "Guy Fawkes was the man who attempted to set the Parliament building afire the fifth of November many years ago. I always thought that Fawkes was a somewhat ironic name for a phoenix."

"Oh, really, and why is that?" questioned Malfoy, still smirking.

"Because Guy Fawkes allegedly made a reference to the phoenix when he was being hanged for high treason. He said that he had planned for England to arise from the ashes after the building had destroyed, and that the government would be born anew, like a phoenix," Hermione explained. "And what was more, was that he was trying to blow up the building, like a phoenix spontaneously combusting when it dies and is reborn." Malfoy nodded and stepped fully into his residence, listening as the door creaked closed behind him. Hermione sighed and dropped her hand from November's delicate plumage. The phoenix gave a disappointed squawk.

"Potter left her to me," Malfoy mentioned, motioning to November before heading toward another room with his newly bought things. After he set them somewhere and returned, he gave Hermione a smirk. "So, what can I do you for? You are, after all, standing in my lobby, unannounced." He wiggled his eyes slightly. "Are you looking for some kind of…'special service'? I assure you I can be quite entertaining."

"Oh, you wanker!" snapped Hermione, suppressing her laughter as best as she could. "Don't be so smutty. I came to ask a favor."

"Sorry, Granger, I'm not free," he said, nearly laughing himself. "I don't do favors. I'll have you know I'm worth a good 200 galleons. But since you were so kind as to lend me the bare necessaries last week. I can give you a discount. Only 190 for you."

"Oh, I'm so flattered, Malfoy," Hermione snickered. "But seriously, it's about…er…last week."

"What about last week, Granger?" he ventured.

"I kind of just got evicted from my apartment," she mumbled, feeling slightly embarrassed for having to ask him the question, which loomed closer and closer.

"Ah, I see," Malfoy drawled in the same manner that he used to when he and Hermione had gone to school together. "And you are here to ask for a place to stay…"

"…temporarily…" interjected Hermione.

"…am I correct?"

"Relatively, yes," answered the brunette, feeling her nervousness growing in her once more.

"Why didn't you go to the Weasleys?" he asked, feeling somewhat curious.

"I don't want to burden them right now. They barely have any space as it is, with the foundation and all," she explained. "I was hoping you wouldn't mind. It's only for a little while, until I can shift back into the Wizarding world, set myself up with a job, and find a place to stay."

"Well, Granger, I believe I already told you where I stood on this issue," he chuckled, smirking at her. "You're welcome here as long as you need. I want to be as accommodating as possible. There are rules, you know. Like no walking around the manor in your underwear."

"No worries about that," Hermione stated plainly, as she was not so bold.

"Also, you can't step into my wing of the house without my permission. It's not my rules; it's the house's. She really has a mind of her own," he explained. Hermione cocked an eyebrow but said nothing. "So when should I expect you?"

"Sometime within the next couple of days," Hermione replied. "Perhaps, however, you should give me the lay of the land and we should set some ground rules now, while I'm here? It would get a lot out of the way and leave me more time to adjust."

"Yes, well, as a forewarning, I'll have you know that this house has no secrets but holds many," he said, and chuckled slightly at Hermione's evident confusion. "Nothing you say or do in this house will be kept from me, Granger. The walls have ears, as do the portraits, all of which are horrible gossips. Also, this house is very old and holds much of the Malfoy and Black family histories. Scores of evil and corrupt things happened in this house and many would make even my hair curl. Some of the things you will hear from the portraits might scare you. Try to avoid the sinister portraits as best as you can. Also, avoid Eva Black, the very last paint down the left corridor on the third floor. She may seem sweet but she is malicious and she is very stuck in the Malfoy ethics and beliefs. Nothing she says or does to you can produce any good. If you are to call this place your home, however short a time, you must possess even an ounce of courage, which I firmly believe you do, being a Gryffindor."

He smirked a smirk that made Hermione shift slightly.

"Now, let me show you the parts of the house that the dear, dear manor will allow you sight of."

**AN:** So anyway, here's the second chapter after a long wait. I'm sorry this took so long. I underwent a string of various and annoying obstacles. First I had to redo my whole computer, factory format it, reinstall new programming, and lose all of the stories that I held so dearly that I had not put on yet. A small inconvenience next to what happened after that. Besides the fact that my computer became so horribly slow, it also got a virus from who-knows-where. Needless to say, I had to factory format it again and reinstall everything again. Everything should be okie-dokie now, though. I hope there won't be any more problems.

Okay, well, review and stuff. This story and my writing skills depend on your need for more. Much love.

Elmo


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